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Culture Food & Drink

Olive oil, pasta, mezcal, coffee, champagne, and global cuisine—these local food instructors know their craft

By BJ Poss, Sarah Golibart Gorman, and Ella Powell

The simple recipe of ingredients and technique 

Behind an ever-changing food scene, local cooks, mixologists, and makers are working every day to bring out the best in their fields of expertise, and teach a deeper appreciation of what grows in the backyard. From olive oil and pasta to mezcal, world cuisine, and kitchen skills, the passionate culinarians in these pages are just a few reasons why Charlottesville is a delicious place to live.


“The first step in learning to cook is building confidence in the kitchen. It’s about fostering a mindset where you’re not afraid to experiment, try new things, and even make mistakes. Cooking is an iterative process, and every “failed” dish is a learning opportunity.”

Chef Antwon Brinson, Culinary Concepts AB LLC


C-ville Bites

Pasta, gelato, and more with Chef Kelvino Barrera

Photo by BJ Poss.

“I don’t think I can imagine the number,” laughs C-ville Bites Chef Kelvino Barrera when asked to calculate how many tortellini he’s hand-rolled. Barrera, who mastered pasta rolling during his time at Pippin Hill Farm, will, along with C-ville Bites owner MJ Padilla, turn your home kitchen into a fine Italian cucina. You choose your pasta style, sauce, protein, and accompaniments, and they’ll teach you the ins and outs of pasta-making. 

“One of the most interesting requests I’ve had is raviolo al’ uovo,” says Barrera, “It’s challenging to get the ravioli with the runny egg yolk just right. But when you see people get it, and their eyes light up, that’s the priceless part of the experience.”

These classes allow Barrera and Padilla to take little bits and pieces of influence, much like they do in their home kitchens, and provide “an experience not just for the guests but also for us,” Barrera says. “It’s more intimate; everybody feels comfortable coming and talking to you while you cook or asking questions.”

Barrera and Padilla both spent their early years in Honduras, with Barrera moving to Charlottesville at age 13. He got his first kitchen job as a line cook, where he fibbed his way into a meat counter job and learned how to trim steaks on the fly. He’s since run the kitchen at The Shebeen, had stints at The Bebedero and South and Central, worked a food truck, and is now running pasta, gelato, and sauce-making classes at C-ville Bites.

“I always like to put a little bit of my mom’s touch in recipes,” says Barrea, reflecting on growing up assisting his mother and grandmother in the kitchen. “It makes me feel like I’m home in my cooking.”

Along with C-ville Bites’ cooking classes, consider Padilla’s Friday and Saturday food tours, where you’ll stroll the Downtown Mall and sample some of her favorite local fare, and then enjoy a meal that is Charlottesville dining through and through. 


“Don’t be afraid to burn that pot of quinoa or overcook the chicken breast. Sit down, enjoy your creation for what it is, notice what went wrong, what flavors you like, what it needs more of, and try again next week. Cooking is all about repetition, failing miserably, and just simply trying again!” 

Chef Travis Burgess,  Bizou /Bang /Luce Pasta


Women in olive oil

Olive Oil tasting lesson from sommelier Jill Myers

Photo by BJ Poss.

One of the greatest gifts a home chef or any admirer of quality cuisine can learn in the kitchen is that if each dish is to be enjoyed as its own entity, its contents should be considered with the same grace. Alongside the culinary staples crowding your cupboard–the flaky salt, five-pepper grinder behind a glass ramekin of dried oregano—is the sometimes overlooked foundation of many meals: olive oil.

The enviable life goal of Jill Myers, certified as an olive oil sommelier by New York’s International Culinary Center, is to increase accessibility and appreciation for the breadth of crushed and fine goodness that comes from the fruits of a Tuscan olive tree. “It’s a beautiful product,” she says. “Liquid gold.”

Myers offers tasting lessons on the history of olive oils from around the world. Her classes teach the influence of terroir and mindful pressing, and are typically held at wineries throughout the Monticello AVA, in conjunction with a wine pairing. “It’s always through wine that people love olive oil,” she says.

Olive oil and wine parallel in their growing season, in their elegant complement to the culinary experience, and in that the best production is likely resting in a glass jug tucked somewhere in an Italian countryside farmhouse. “I love the culture behind slower food processes,” says Myers as she spills out a golden shade of a Tuscan leccino from her recent Italian harvest.

Myers guides you through the nooks and crannies of the Mediterranean as she recounts conversations held at a sturdy table after a long day’s harvest. “Quality olive oil should taste like a summer garden,” she says. The care and attention it takes to cultivate worthwhile oils calls for their consumption to be paired as you would a thoughtful wine list. As Thomas Jefferson said, “The olive is surely the richest gift of heaven.” 


“Learning to cook for me truly began when I delved into the history of French cuisine, which sparked an appreciation for the art of cooking, especially in a professional setting. That passion led me to connect with other chefs and ultimately to the Culinary Institute of America, where my journey took shape with foundational courses like Product Knowledge and Skills 1—covering everything from knife cuts to stocks. The skills and insights I gained during those early days have become a part of my daily life, both inside and outside the kitchen.”

Chef de Cuisine Aaron Bellizzi, Marigold by Jean-Georges


the Bebedero / mejicali

Mezcal lessons with mixologist River Hawkins

Photo by BJ Poss.

River Hawkins has made a life of conjuring, experimenting, and articulating agave delicacy. Hawkins, a mixologist and partner in The Bebedero on the Downtown Mall and Mejicali on West Main Street, offers two-hour classes for both mezcal and tequila. At your station, stocked with lime, salt, and a rarely empty 1.5 oz. glass, you’ll learn the intricacies of these spirits, their traditions, and why Hawkins pours two parts lime, one tequila, one sugar, and salts the rim. “The lime and salt excite the palate and enhance flavor,” he says. “Spirit, citrus, sugar, salt—the margarita is the quintessential cocktail.”

For every tequila drinker who shivers at the leer of the soaked worm watching from the bottom of the bottle, there is an equivalent in mezcalero that should be tried: the one buried in goat dung. The five regions of Jalisco, Mexico, produce agave that draws comparison to what Champagne is for sparkling wine. 

Nuances of flavor are drawn from different appellations, aging styles, mixtos, and production within the five regions, but according to Hawkins, mezcaleros are in agreement: The blanco stage is the perfect stage; this is what tequila is supposed to taste like. Blanco is the unadulterated stage of tequila. Farmers appreciate its simplicity in retaining the essence of the purveyor’s terroir. 

Hawkins’ classes teach you how to navigate the liquor store aisles and select the spirit to fit your evening. For a spirit to be considered tequila, it must be 51 percent blue agave and hail from Jalisco, Mexico. The other 49 percent is where you’ll run into over-sugared mixtos that lead to the hangover, swearing you off it. “You can find good things in any mezcal,” Hawkins says, but in selecting tequila, there is a creed that he emphatically implores: 100 percent blue agave. 

Hawkins’ classes run year-round through the Bebedero, where you’ll make your own cocktail and taste test an array of spirits (snack breaks for housemade guac and elote are included). Go beyond the shot and keep an eye out for the next class and some blue agave.


“In the beginning, knowing how to measure dry or liquid ounces for savory recipes and understanding how many ounces are in a cup (8 oz.) is so key. Especially when it comes to baking, working in grams and using a digital scale will allow you to have much more control and understanding of ingredients and how they work in recipes. Baking is a science, and it really helps when your measurements are exact.” 

Christina Martin, Head baker and owner of bakernobakery LLC


The Happy Cook

Tastes from around the world by chef Soledad Liendo

Supplied photo.

In a shop at Barracks Road Shopping Center there’s a narrow doorway that leads to an array of handcrafted cookware and your place among some of the world’s most notable cuisines. The back of The Happy Cook is where Soledad Liendo shares her culinary journey from her Buenos Aires home to the mastery of global cuisine.

Tickets are sold by the station, each of which accommodates two students. There’s an array of classes to choose from. Perhaps you want to perfect your knife skills or master the cuisine of Argentina. Or maybe just sign up for a seasonal course, one of which is a play on “The Bear”’s seven fishes episode. The two-hour classes lean on technique to master specific dishes amongst a full-course meal and local wine.

Liendo says her culinary journey doesn’t end when the burners cool. “Cooking, for me, is not locked in the kitchen. It’s about cooking, getting together, and enjoying a meal.”  

For plenty of chefs, the pursuit of a family-worthy meal comes from the warm memories of their youth. “Gathering was the number one priority,” says Liendo. She recalls thumbing through a family cookbook put together to preserve the aromas and conversations over generations. She calls on this well of flavors to guide her popular Argentinian empanadas and alfajores classes. Liendo also navigates students through comforts from shepherd’s pie to decadent truffle pasta.

Courses at The Happy Cook, as noticed by Forbes, make for a cozy night out or gift idea. In addition, Liendo offers private lessons for small groups that are looking to hone in on a particular cuisine, and her training in French, Spanish, and Italian provides access to unique flavors of the world. 


“I teach a variety of very active cooking classes here … and the first step to learning how to cook is ensuring that [students] are reading the recipes before they begin. Getting their mise en place ready before they start cooking is another crucial step. But the most important thing is to have fun with cooking. I always encourage [everyone] to play with recipes once they are comfortable. Exchanging herbs for different ones or playing with different chilis as long as they are cooking savory recipes, if they are baking they have to stick to the original recipe.”

Executive Chef Victoria Cosner, Pippin Hill Farm & Vineyard


PVCC

Technical kitchen skills 

Supplied photo.

Ready to take your skills pro? Begin your professional training at Piedmont Virginia Community College, where you can get an associate’s degree in culinary arts, a culinary career studies certificate, or take a class if you’re looking to perfect a baking technique or learn to trim the whole cow. 

“If you’re passionate about what you’re doing, we’ll help you get there,” says PVCC culinary arts instructor Caitlin McCabe. “Whether your goal is to open a restaurant or just get better at cooking.” 

McCabe brought her degree in food service management to Virginia in pursuit of Southern hospitality, eventually becoming executive chef at The Palms in Lexington. 

During their first year, students learn knife skills, the secrets of soups and stocks, and even the philosophical side of a bloody mary before noon. “We’ll break down why brunch is what it is,” says McCabe. “Aside from being fabulous.” 

Along with these skills, students learn how to prepare and purchase meat and seafood to cook for a cozy, intimate gathering or a bustling chophouse that feeds hundreds. They’ll gain an understanding of mixology and have the opportunity to pursue classes like artisan bread-making—many of which McCabe is working on developing into one-day courses open to the public.

Year two of the associate’s degree includes understanding the culture of cooking. Where do international and regional cuisines come from? How does religion and historical expansion bring baguettes to South Asia or spices to England? Students will learn to collect twists of global staples and sprinkle them into a menu made for their kitchen.

McCabe emphasizes the program’s ability to accommodate any students looking to further their culinary journey. “We’re happy to be in the community, and look forward to expanding it.”—BJ Poss


“The best chefs all understand the professional kitchen from the ground up. For all cooks—casual and professional alike—the unrelenting desire to understand how a dish you love was made, assessing how it could be improved upon, and then figuring out how to do it yourself (with said improvements) is when you know you’ve officially embraced the concept of learning to cook, which is a never-ending process and constant evolution.”

Executive Chef Chuck Adcock, Rooftop Charlottesville
at The Doyle Hotel 


Claiming terroir

Photo by Sarah Cramer Shields (Cramer Photo).

Anna Kietzerow is one of those people who looks perfectly at home swirling a glass of wine. Fingers cradling the stem, wrist twirling, champagne rising masterfully close to the rim, Kietzerow takes a sip of vintage Alexandre Bonnet Brut Nature, remarking on how much drier and crisper it is compared to the creamier Drappier Brut we tried moments ago. If brut and vintage already feel like a foreign language, or if you’re right at home in the world of oenology, then Kietzerow is precisely who you need to meet.

A philosophy Ph.D. candidate at UVA with a passion for wine, Kietzerow co-founded Cellar Road in 2023 with her “partner in wine” Adam Wagner as a space to explore and share their knowledge with others. Last year, the duo led an educational trip to Champagne, France, immersing guests in exclusive tours of champagne houses and Michelin-starred dinners. If this sounds like your scene, stay tuned: Their next tour will explore Germany’s Moselle Valley—the region where Kietzerow first cut her teeth, or rather her taste buds, on wine.

“How I approach wine has been heavily influenced by my background in philosophy,” explains Kietzerow, who sees wine as a sensory portal to the philosophical ideas about which she’s already passionate. “My dissertation is about the topic of place, and what it means for something to be a place, and the role that place plays in our social and political lives.” If your mind jumps to terroir, you’re on the right track.

For Kietzerow, terroir goes beyond the soil, climate, and terrain of a region; it includes the winemaker’s hand and cultural essence of a place. Her next class will dive into wines of Tuscany—chianti, brunello, and the complex Super Tuscans. While chianti and brunello are made exclusively with sangiovese grapes, Super Tuscans blend sangiovese with French varietals like merlot, cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc, and syrah. Grown in Tuscan soil, these French grapes create a layered terroir, a “gray area” where Kietzerow thrives.

During our conversation, she introduced the sorites paradox, a classic philosophical problem that tackles vagueness. “Imagine I place a single grain of sand before you,” she says. “Is it a heap?” Of course not, but then she adds another. “Is it a heap now?” She’s onto something. When do individual grains of sand become a heap? When does sauvignon blanc from Sancerre differ meaningfully from one grown in the neighboring Loire Valley village of Pouilly-Fumé?

These are the kinds of questions Kietzerow explores as she works toward her Wine and Spirits Education Trust diploma, a challenging credential equivalent to master sommelier. When not at a UVA library, Kietzerow can be found studying at The Wine Guild of Charlottesville, tasting wines, writing descriptions, searching for quality vintages to make accessible to the Charlottesville community. And if you miss her classes or the upcoming Moselle trip, you can join Kietzerow and Wagner on Cellar Road’s podcast, which launches this month. Look out for her masterclass episode with Edouard Cossy, global director at Champagne Laurent-Perrier. It reflects on an in-depth tasting and paired dinner at The Alley Light—a rare chance to learn about champagne from someone who doesn’t just swirl the glass, but opens up the story within.—Sarah Golibart Gorman


“Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. Every time I’ve screwed something up, it’s sent me down the path to learning why I goofed, and those lessons prove invaluable as you continue cooking.”

Executive Chef Chris Humphrey, Bonny & Read


Pour your heart into Mudhouse’s coffee classes

Photo by Eze Amos.

The Mudhouse has been grinding beans from its local roasters since 2009. In fall 2023, the shop began offering classes, giving customers the chance to learn the art and science behind a perfect cup of joe. 

Certified as Q graders by the Coffee Quality Institute, Mudhouse professionals are trained in the sensory evaluation of coffee. 

“We want typical everyday drinkers to be able to come in and learn something if they’re interested,” says Lindsey Simpkins, Mudhouse’s sales and events manager.

Coffee curious students are taught a range of skills that include triangulation (mini cuppings or tastings), explorations of coffee and sound, how to work specialty equipment, and how to create latte art.

Simpkins says the latte art classes have been the most popular among the public. Not only do they offer a unique date opportunity on the first Friday of each month, the classes also introduce the basic concepts and processes that uphold the Mudhouse standard. 

“When [baristas] first come in, they have to learn the difference of the fat content in milk,” says Simpkins. The higher the fat content, Simpkins notes, the more air you want to introduce into your milk while steaming. 

Listening to your latte is equally important. Simpkins points out that the sounds accompanying the production of your morning pick-me-up reveal whether the blend is up to par. 

“Once it’s steaming, it should sound quiet, almost like a roller coaster going up a hill,” she says. “That’s how I teach people to envision it. If it’s screaming at you, then you didn’t introduce enough air.” 

In the cupping class, Mudhouse’s diverse international coffee blends are concentrated in a process of setting ground beans with hot water until they rise and form a crust that is broken for an exquisite tasting experience. This allows students to distinguish the fine details of blends originating from regions such as Ethiopia or Colombia. 

“You’re able to tell where coffee comes from based on the flavor profile and acidity level,” says Simpkins. Ethiopian blends, for instance, are normally accompanied by a fruity and floral flavor with a bright acidity, while the Colombian blends are notably chocolaty and sweet. “Once you get to a more elevated level, you’re actually scoring coffee.” Aroma and acidity are broken down to explore the complexities of different coffee blends, and participants are trained to notice all of the subtleties in preparing a grade A cup of coffee. 

“We have also considered the fact that some of this isn’t as simple as learning it in a 30- to 45-minute class,” says Simpkins. “So come spring of 2025, [Mudhouse] will be opening up the roaster for private classes.” 

The new classes will be conducted one-on-one with professional Mudhouse roasters, and Simpkins says the expanded programming gives participants an opportunity to become true coffee connoisseurs. “I just want people who want to learn and be involved in specialty coffee to know that they have a safe place to learn. We’re going to give you all the information you need so that you can go home and be able to do what we do every day,” Simpkins says. “Hopefully other coffee shops will join suit, and if not we’ll still be here growing.”—Ella Powell

Categories
Arts Culture

Nurse Blake

They say laughter is the best medicine, and comedian Nurse Blake is on call with a heavy dose of hilarity. From Level 1 trauma centers to stages around the country, Blake Lynch has taken his unique experiences as a nurse to find the humor in humerus bones, the lighter side of liver disease, and the fun in hospital funding. Celebrating health care practitioners, this tour features live skits, videos, and interactive stories drawn from real life. And there’s likely to be plenty of care providers in the audience should you bust a gut, break a rib, or slap a knee too hard.

Monday 11/25. $45–59.50, 7pm. The Paramount Theater, 215 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. theparamount.net

Categories
Arts Culture

Guitarist Bill Frisell relies on instinct, relationships to explore jazz

By Dave Cantor

Bill Frisell is a cypher for American music, ping-ponging among genres for the past five decades. 

Like most jazz musicians, the guitarist keeps his ears wide open. But encountering vibraphonist Gary Burton playing what at one point was called “jazz rock” sent Frisell’s understanding of the genre down a new path.

“The whole psychedelic thing was happening, but then the music was on such a high level,” Frisell says of hearing Burton’s late-’60s and early-’70s groups during his youth. “I mean the guitarists that Gary had in his band were—I guess people don’t even know half of these guys. Even before Larry Coryell, he played with Hank Garland. … Then there’s Jerry Hahn, Sam Brown, John Scofield, Pat Metheny, Mick Goodrick. It’s incredible the guitar players that went through that band.”

As a kid, Frisell frequented a music shop and cultural center run by Harry Tuft—a figure in Denver maybe akin to Moses Asch. He’d hang around, check out instruments and records that were for sale, and take in heady conversations about performers he wasn’t necessarily familiar with.

By his teenage years, Frisell was deep into the clarinet and eventually headed off to college to further study the instrument. His folks also moved from Denver to New Jersey during the ’70s, and then later to North Carolina, where Frisell would “go off exploring” during visits. 

In the western portion of North Carolina and in southwest Virginia, Frisell again found music that rearranged his brain—folk strains developed in tight-knit communities, relatively untouched by the genre’s electric and pop-oriented derivations.

“It was really kind of mind-blowing for me,” the guitarist says. “I hadn’t heard that for real, you know, stuff that people had just grown up [with] there and played. That had a huge impact on me.”

Frisell’s own work has stretched to insinuate the spectrum of music he’s encountered over the decades, veering from jazz standards to familiar folk tunes. In some ways, it was drummer Paul Motian—best known for working in Bill Evans’ trio—who gave the guitarist a significant platform to explore in the ’80s.

“He really recognized me for what my voice was. He wanted a guitar player, but it wasn’t so much about the guitarist. He wanted me as a person,” Frisell says about the late drummer. “I felt so wide open to do whatever I felt. It wasn’t like I was filling a role of what he thought a guitarist should be. It was like, ‘Here, just take it as far as you can go.’”

Frisell’s developed long-standing relationships with a raft of other players—including drummer Rudy Royston; they first played together back in 1993, the guitarist says. During the ensuing decades, Royston’s contributed to a handful of the bandleader’s albums, as well as provided the backbeat for Frisell’s regular trio, which is making a stop at The Southern for a pair of Saturday shows.

In addition to Royston, the guitarist’s group will include Thomas Morgan at its Charlottesville date—a bassist who’s played with Frisell for more than a decade, contributing to a few duo albums on ECM alongside the bandleader. Both rhythm players were also a part of the guitarist’s Grammy-nominated Orchestras, a 2024 album that featured a wealth of European classical talent.

It should maybe go without saying: There’s not a set list for the trio’s local performance.

“The number of songs that we know and the possibilities are so huge that we never really—especially with this trio—we don’t really plan at all,” Frisell says. “Anything I can throw at those guys, they’re gonna know what it is.”

While familiarity with repertoire can help performers shuttle ideas from their minds down to their fingers, attaining that kind of fluidity is a career-long journey. 

Frisell referred to the distance between intent and desired outcome as a “huge chasm.”

“I can never get what it is I’m actually trying to do to come out,” he says. “It’s always … reaching for something that you can’t quite get. So, you just get as close as you can, and that’s what keeps you going.”

Categories
Arts Culture

John Gibson in the HotSeat

No stranger to the stage, John Gibson worked at Live Arts for 18 years, from 1992 to 2010. During his run as executive and artistic director, Gibson introduced youth programs and new works, advocated for under- represented playwrights, and launched pay-what-you-can performances, among other initiatives. Since moving to Atlanta in 2011, Gibson has worked as an organizer and leader, striving to build better and more resilient communities. As he returns to town to helm Live Arts’ production of The Wizard of Oz, we put the once-again director in the HotSeat.

Name: John Gibson

Age: 59

Pronouns: he/him

Hometown: Blowing Rock, North Carolina

Job(s): Writer, community organizer, once-upon-a-time theater director

What’s something about your job that people would be surprised to learn? Whether as a writer, an organizer, or a director, boredom and discomfort are your greatest allies. That microsecond where I get bored or annoyed obligates me to initiate change.

What is acting/performing to you? Theater was my daily practice from ages 8 to 44. I then set it down completely for 15 years—rarely even an audience member. I never felt burned out—I just wanted new ways to engage with the world. But curiosity got the best of me—could I still do it? Is it like riding a bicycle? The answer will be onstage from November 22 to December 15. Come judge for yourself.

Why is supporting performing arts education important? Lots of higher-order reasons, but here’s what I learned as a kid
actor: Be nice, show up early, help clean up, don’t touch other people’s stuff, learn your lines, and don’t share mascara (pink eye—that’s why). Also, you can’t know when, but someday clean underwear will really matter.

Most fulfilling aspect of directing for the stage: Failing better.

Favorite city to perform/work in: Wherever those dear hearts and like minds gather. They know who they are.

Favorite venue to perform/work in: The unlikely or undiscovered one. In Charlottesville, none could ever top the coal tower.

What are you currently watching? This seems (or is) insane, but for the last few months, I’ve watched the 1939 Wizard of Oz almost every day. Hundreds of times now.

What are you currently listening to? “Follow, follow, follow, follow!”

Go-to karaoke song: “My Way”

Proudest accomplishment: Loving whole-heartedly and faithfully, twice in a lifetime. And: Building a robust community, also twice.

Celebrity crush: I had a lot of them growing up—Donnie Osmond, Robbie Benson, Scott Baio—the dark-haired, big-eyed, square-jawed types. Reader, I married him.

Who’d play you in a movie? I used to get confused for John Malkovich every once in a while.

Who is your hero? I actually keep a list. Nearly a hundred names. Thinking a lot lately about Pauli Murray, Wes Anderson, Savitri Durkee, John Lewis, and Wendell Berry.

Best/worst part of living here: The best and the worst part of living here is that I don’t live here. It forces Charlottesville into a purely nostalgic modality, which is its long-time preference.

Favorite Charlottesville venue: Various basements, leaky warehouses, overgrown gardens, and fire traps, all long since condemned or torn down, replaced with things fancier, safer, and saner.

Favorite Charlottesville landmark/attraction: Steve Tharp and Sandy McAdams.

Bodo’s order: Everything bagel with liverwurst, onion, horseradish, and mustard.

Describe a perfect day: Thursday has always been my secret favorite.

If you could be reincarnated as a person or thing, what would you be? It’s all such a miracle, from every vantage point. Glad to take the roll of the dice.

If you had three wishes, what would you wish for? The good knees, perfect eyesight, and 32-inch waist I had through my 20s, minus the arrogance.

Are there any superstitions you abide by? All of them—ladder avoiding, salt throwing, non-crack stepping. There are too many invisible forces to take any chances.

Most embarrassing moment: The amount of time I’ve spent on these interview questions is pretty far up there.

Best Halloween costume you’ve worn: When, as an 8-year-old, you get paid to dress up and scare people, you realize: Halloween is for civilians.

Do you have any pets? Projects, ideas, causes, opinions, grudges. Oh—and two dogs.

Subject that causes you to rant: So. Many. Please do not get me started on the devil’s bargain we made, trading incandescent light bulbs for survival of the species.

Favorite curse word? Or favorite word: I swear like a sailor. To choose a favorite curse word would be like choosing a favorite child. I love them all for different reasons. My most overused word is “tedious.”

Most used app on your phone: Questions about “your phone” are tedious.

Hottest take/most unpopular opinion: Everything is going to be okay.

What have you forgotten today? Almost all of yesterday.

Categories
Arts Culture

David Cross is good at what he does, and he likes doing it

Comedian, actor, and writer David Cross is a recognizable face thanks to still-fresh classics like ’90s HBO sketch show “Mr. Show” and the sitcom “Arrested Development,” as well as more recent roles such as that of Sy Grossman on Netflix’s “The Umbrella Academy.” Decades ago, Cross earned a core of devoted Gen X fans, and has since cultivated a lengthy list of critical praise, as well as multiple Grammy Award nominations for Best Comedy Album. His many successes elsewhere (animated blockbuster voiceovers, British TV) haven’t prevented him from continually revisiting his stand-up roots, though, and his The End of the Beginning of the End tour brings his singular disarming wit back to town. We spoke to him by phone to find out why, after more than 40 years, he’s still drawn to cracking wise for crowds.

C-VILLE Weekly: I always thought stand-up seemed like the most difficult thing anybody in the performing arts could choose to do. So why do you keep doing it?

David Cross: I like difficult things. I like the challenge. But it’s not difficult anymore; I’ve been doing it for, geez, two-thirds of my life now. The shortest answer is I really enjoy it. I don’t have to do it. I choose to do it.

Is there a specific aspect you like most that keeps you coming back to it?

I’m having fun. And being out on the road is another aspect I like; I love traveling across the world. And that hour and 20 minutes or so that I’m on stage is really fun. So whatever kind of shitty day I’ve had or shitty news I’ve gotten, I know that that will be a good hour-plus time spent that day. 

You mentioned that you’ve been doing it for so long. Besides your early years where you were still figuring things out, how has your approach changed?

For the last five tours or so I’ve been repeating a process and I’ve got it down to a science. When I’m ready to start working again, I will do these shows called “Shooting the Shit, Seeing What Sticks” in Brooklyn, where I live. I’ll have a couple of special guests and I literally am starting from scratch, with notes and papers.

I record everything because I do all my writing on stage, basically. I’ll do it in a tiny 99-seat basement theater for a couple of months—probably eight to 10 of those things, then I’ll move to a slightly bigger venue for six shows. It’s about a five-month process to write a new hour. And when I go out on tour, the set will change fairly significantly from the first show I do to the 70th show.

In addition to that, I saw that you’re also doing a podcast every week [“Senses Working Overtime with David Cross”], and I have to confess that I haven’t listened to it—but I saw some clips on Instagram. When the hell are people supposed to listen to podcasts? Do you listen to podcasts?

I don’t. My wife does. As far as when you’re supposed to listen to it, that’s a question that only you can answer, my friend.

How would you describe your act for people who haven’t seen you?

I’ve been doing it for a long, long time. I know what I’m doing. I’m not a clean comic. I’m a little edgy. I’m not for everyone. And if you’re not familiar, check it out. You may like it or you may hate it. (pauses) I don’t know who you are.

Categories
Arts Culture

The United Nations of Comedy

The United Nations of Comedy returns with the hottest standups seen on stages and screens from coast to coast. Founded to promote diversity through laughter, the show’s current lineup features an eclectic mix of performers with styles that span the gamut of humor, including New York City-based Anthony DeVito, Jordan Rock (the youngest brother of Chris), Washington, D.C.’s Paris Sashay, and BET “Comic View All-Star” Funnyman Skiba, making his 15th appearance in Charlottesville.

Saturday 11/16. $39.50–49.50, 8pm. The Paramount Theater, 215 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. theparamount.net

Categories
Arts Culture

Six Organs of Admittance

Inspired by East-meets-West solo guitar ruminations and a desire to merge fingerstyle acoustic guitar with improvisational elements, Six Organs of Admittance is the ongoing project by Northern California guitarist Ben Chasny. His “new folk” combines drone, percussion, and resonant vocalizations in experimental arrangements anchored by expert fingerpicking. The creator of the Hexadic System—a chance operation tool placing parameters on musical arrangement—Chasny has produced conceptually driven compositions since the late ’90s, and continuously pushes sonic boundaries.

Saturday 11/16. $20, 8pm. The Southern Café and Music Hall, 103 First St. S. thesoutherncville.com

Categories
Arts Culture

“Night Magic: Adventures Among Glowworms, Moon Gardens, and Other Marvels of the Dark”

The sun is setting earlier, and nights are getting longer. While you may lament the seasonal loss of light, there are wonders to be found in nocturnal exploration. Night Magic: Adventures Among Glowworms, Moon Gardens, and Other Marvels of the Dark shares stories of natural phenomena taking place under the light of the moon. Writer Leigh Ann Henion, who traveled into the darkness with naturalists, biologists, primitive-skills experts, and those who live beyond daylight, shares some of her experiences in this illuminating author event.

Saturday 11/16. Free, 7pm. New Dominion Bookshop, 404 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. ndbookshop.com

Categories
Arts Culture

A conversation around Black loss with author Jennifer C. Nash

As a writer and theorist, Jennifer C. Nash’s work is deeply connected to political and emotional realities of Black feminism, inviting readers to probe the space between theory and embodiment. She is the Jean Fox O’Barr Professor of Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies at Duke University and the author of four books. Nash spoke to us about her latest, How We Write Now: Living With Black Feminist Theory

Jennifer C. Nash will discuss her work, and the prominent place of the photograph in contemporary Black feminist writing, on November 19 in UVA’s Bryan Hall.
Publicity photo.

C-VILLE Weekly: In your new book, you focus attention on Black loss in the age of Black Lives Matter, working to “disrupt prevailing conceptions of loss” by exploring slow loss through the work of Black feminist writers as well as your mother’s Alzheimer’s disease. As a Black woman who has spent your academic career immersed in Black feminist theory, did writing this lead to any disruptions or experimentation within your work? 

JCN: If in my earlier book I was trying to think about how often we saw politicians (especially on the left) reference a Black maternal health “crisis,” and how often we saw them turn to Black mothers as symbols of grief and pain, my new work wants to think about how the voice of contemporary Black feminist theory, one that is preoccupied with loss, is always thinking about loss through maternal figures. Sometimes this is about mother metaphors—the loss of motherlands, mother tongues—and sometimes it’s about mothers and foremothers.

In many ways, [this] project was born out of the subtitle: Living with Black Feminist Theory. I have lived with Black feminist theory for the entirety of my academic career, returning to books and articles not just as sources or evidence, but as resources and tools for living. That’s why I wanted How We Write Now to try on—or inhabit—the voice I argue has come to be so central to contemporary Black feminist writing. 

For me, the personal voice, the beautiful voice, that I take on in the book is one that moves me toward grief rather than treating grief as something to escape, to recover from, to get over. It is a voice that emphasizes that doing justice to loss requires offering it companionship, staying with it. It is a voice that insists that there’s no such thing as being “too close” to what we study, especially when it comes to loss. In a moment where so much writing on loss is about moving on, getting beyond, transcending, I am drawn to the ethics of a project that insists that we sit with loss, stay with it.

There is a tenderness and intimacy in this book that’s different from your past work. How did you conceptualize the risks of undertaking this?

It is definitely the case that writing about the people you are closest to is a risky endeavor, particularly when the writing discloses that which they might refuse. My mother, for example, would certainly contest her Alzheimer’s diagnosis, even as she has now lost many of the words she could have mobilized earlier to refuse the label of “dementia.” But it is also the case that my father finds a certain kind of freedom in seeing our story represented on the page. It has allowed him a way of talking to his friends about something that feels unbearable to name. 

I also know that the risk of not speaking is far greater—it felt important to me, urgent even, to document this moment, both the moment where Black feminists are collectively developing a voice to name loss, and the moment in which my mother becomes more unfamiliar to me, and the world becomes more unfamiliar to her. As I note in the book, I think the ethical grappling with the risks of disclosure, with what it means to tell stories that implicate the people you hold dearest, is actually very much at the heart of the Black feminist project I am interested in.

How did you work to avoid systems
that “peddle in Black grief” as you wrote this book?

I think the grief markets that have sprung up around Black grief have multiplied in the Black Lives Matter era. Samaria Rice—Tamir Rice’s mother—warned us about the costs of “hustling Black death.” Indeed, a lot of folks have profited from Black death—bestsellers have been born, talking heads have made careers. And I say that not to be cynical—Black death needs to be named and discussed and diagnosed. But we also have to recognize that there are new markets around that very death. 

I wrote a book that I argue is about Black loss that has none of the characteristics of the Black loss stories that proliferate in the present. This is not a book about a Black boy or man being murdered by the police, nor is it about the anticipated loss of my Black (male) child. It is not a book about the forms of violence that are regularized and anticipated, the state-sanctioned theft of Black children that ends with non-indictments and non-convictions. I am trying to lay claim to the frame of Black loss to think—not about the spectacular and expected death of Black children—but about the slow, endured, and quiet deterioration my mother experiences. I want to think about what it might mean to develop a frame of Black loss that can make room for her and the deterioration of her brain. In that sense, I think the story I want to tell is necessarily outside of the grief economies that I want to name and problematize.

Categories
Culture Living

Pull! A tale of sporting clays

Since childhood, I’ve been fascinated with the idea of shooting skeet. I must’ve seen it in a Bugs Bunny cartoon or something. My father liked hunting, and to varying degrees, family members enjoyed the venison from his efforts. I grew up around guns and, therefore, grew up with a healthy respect for them.

During grad school, I frequented a gun range, learning to fire just about everything it had. The unfortunate context for my interest at that time was that someone in my life had made threats with a firearm, and my thinking was that if I had to take a gun away from someone, I’d better know how to use it. What I didn’t expect was how much I enjoyed learning about the different weapons and firing them under safe conditions at a gun range using paper targets.

With stationary targets, I’m a decent shot. Still, I longed to try something like skeet, with moving targets. After not shooting for 20 years, I decided to cross skeet off the ol’ bucket list. I called Central Virginia Sporting Clays, and my education began. There are several popular shotgun sports: trap, skeet, and sporting clays. The main difference is how the clays move. With sporting clays, they can go in any direction. I scheduled a group lesson and donned my Elmer Fudd hat.

What

Shooting sporting clays.

Why

Because I’ve always wanted to yell “Pull!” and shoot a moving inanimate target.

How it went

Many clays exploded that day.

From Charlottesville, it’s a bit of a trek to get to Central Virginia Sporting Clays in Palmyra, but IMO it’s well worth the effort. The CVSC site says map apps may not get you there, but friends joining me used their apps with no problem.

Upon arrival, we met up with our instructor who grabbed shotguns before we headed to the five-stand area. Our knowledgeable teacher explained how sporting clay shooting works, shared safety information, and distributed hearing and eye protection. The most Yoda thing he conveyed to us was that shooting sporting clays is more about relying on one’s intuition than aiming.

My friends encouraged me to go first, because they’re kind and I coordinated the outing—but probably more so because the older I get, the less I care about embarrassing myself. The five-stand area has—as you might assume—five wooden shooting stands in a row. After sidling up to a stand, the instructor demonstrated how to load the shotgun properly and coached me on my form. A remote control launched targets from clay throwers in different positions around a clearing in front of the stands. Some clays launched toward the stands while others moved away. Some crossed from the sides, and one thrower skipped clays across the ground to mimic landbound animals (sorry, bunnies!).

My goal was to hit one clay. If I did that, mission accomplished—everything else was gravy. The first clay launched, and I clipped it. I hit three out of four clays in my first round and felt like the queen of the world. But I had just been hitting the edge of clays, making small bits pop off, and I wanted to make a target explode. The instructor repeated the initial training process with each of us, adjusting for our different dominant eyes, body types, stances, and firing quirks. After he finished, we were all breaking clays. I learned that I really enjoy shooting clays—at least trying to—and that I have a proclivity to double tap. Sometimes crossing something off your bucket list results in a new hobby. I know I’ll be back.